The Dying of the Light
by Evans17
Summary: "Do not go gently into that good night/rage, rage against the dying of the light." The story of Minerva McGonagall's school days and personal tragedies. Canon-compliant. T for non-graphic violence, dark themes, and mention of sex.


"Minerva!"

Minerva McGonagall turned, startled, and a book fell from the pile she held in her arms. She muttered an oath and bent to pick it up, only to find a smooth, pale hand holding it out to her. She smiled as she looked up at her fellow Head. "Hello, Tom."

"Hello," he said, smiling with one corner of his mouth, the way he always did. "Off to transfiguration?"

She tried to smooth her hair and then remembered the books she was holding, so settled for shifting from one foot to another. "Happily, yes. I just finished with Charms, thank Merlin."

"Mind if I accompany you?"

"Of course not!"

"Here," he said, holding out his wand. "Let me take those for you." Before she could respond, he had levitated her books out of her arms and was floating them a few feet ahead of them as they walked, without any apparent effort. Merlin's beard, but he was good at what he did. And handsome, too, even she could admit that.

"Did you figure out what to do about that arithmancy problem?" he asked as they walked across the dim, winter evening courtyard. "I heard Professor Anador saying she was pleased with your progress, but I gather she doesn't even know the answer – not surprising, I suppose, considering."

"Considering what?"

"Her, well, family. Never mind that – did you try subtracting the tessers from the sixth degree polynomial valence trajectory?"

"I hadn't thought of that," Minerva said thoughtfully. "I was thinking that adding the tessers to the eighth degree would be more beneficial to the projection, but what you suggest does have possibilities." She chewed on her lip. "Although you'd have to pin the eighth circle down with a matrix of eleventy-one to get the apparition coordinates right. But that's not so hard – I think it could work. Thank you, Tom- Tom?"

"What?"

"You had a strange look on your face."

"It's nothing," he said, smiling his charming smile. "I don't suppose you've done any more research on the, well, _subject_ I asked you about."

Minerva looked uncomfortable. "I tried, Tom, really, but the restricted section is very well protected, and I think books on that kind of magic would be kept in Dippet's office. And I'm not about to ask him for them!" she laughed. "Imagine what'd he say to me, and me Head Girl and all."

Tom did not laugh. "But I wonder what he'd say to _me_..." he muttered darkly. "Ah, here we are, Transfiguration." He lowered her books back into her arms. "Before we go in, Minerva, I was wondering if you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me next Saturday?"

"Oh!" Minerva said, startled to find that she was blushing. "Well, yes, I'd love to!" she smiled awkwardly up at him. "Thank you, Tom!"

He smiled back. "I'm glad," he said simply, and then held the door for her.

That night, gossip was rampant in the Gryffindor dormitories.

"He really asked you to Hogsmeade?" That was Magda Templeton, curly-haired and the tiniest bit airheaded.

"What'd you do, Minerva, cast a spell on him during a Heads' meeting?" and _that _was Augusta Longbottom, sour as ever.

"It's not very _prudent_, though, is it, not with times as they are?" that was pessimistic (as always) Mafalda Hopkirk.

"Yes, with Grindelwald gathering support and the muggles dropping bombs left and right, I mean, it's dangerous to associate with Slytherins, isn't it? We all know what _they're_ going to do once they leave school." and that was Miranda Goshawk, worrywart extraordinaire.

"Oh, stuff it, Miranda. It's not as if _Tom Riddle_, Hogwarts golden boy, is going to join _Grindelwald_. I mean, I know he's a bit of a tortured soul, but not _that_ tortured. Besides, everyone knows Grindelwald's on the decline ever since Professor Dumbledore got after him. And, more important than all that tosh, are you happy, Min?" and that was Amelia Bones, Minerva's best friend and the only person party to her long months of agonizing over whether or not it was okay to have a crush on Tom Riddle, her fellow Head.

"I'm excited," Minerva said, scrupulously honest, as always. "And a bit tired. So if you don't mind, I'll go to bed. We have Transfiguration in the morning, and I absolutely need to stay on top of it if I'm going to pass my N.E.W.T.s."

She climbed into bed and pulled the curtains shut, listening carefully as the others all crawled into bed and fell asleep. Then she got out of bed, slipped into her dressing gown and slippers, and hurried downstairs.

The common room was, of course, empty, but a few seconds later Amelia tip-toed down the stairs. "So what's up?"

"How did you know I would want to talk?"

"Aside from the obvious reason that you just got asked out by Tom Riddle? Well, if anyone doesn't need to stay on top of Transfig, it's you, you're ace at it. I'm surprised the others didn't catch that."

"Augusta's too self-absorbed, Magda doesn't pay attention, and I think Mafalda and Miranda are too stressed about N.E.W.T.s."

"So..."

"So?" Minerva fiddled with the end of her thick black braid and smiled wickedly.

"_So_, what are you going to do about your date with Tom Riddle?"

"Well, go out on it."

"Don't be impossible, Minerva!" Amelia's hair was escaping from its ponytail left and right. "What do you think you'll do?"

"I'm not sure. To be honest, Amy, I'm really nervous. Will you help me get ready?"

"Course I will, you ninny. It's not as if I really need to clean up. Just one of the perks of going out with Dedalus, he couldn't care less."

"Ugh, I still don't see what you see in him, Amy, he's too dull for words."

"He _is_ a tad slow," Amy admitted reluctantly, "But kind, too. And very brave. He wants to be an auror, did you know?" She smiled. "He's a good man."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "We really should go to bed, you know. I'm excited though, Amy, and I swear I'll tell you all about it after it happens."

"You won't leave anything out?"

"I promise."

"Okay. Bed it is. And Min?"

"Yes?"

"Don't be too nervous. He likes you."  
>Minerva half-smiled. "I hope so."<p>

The two girls climbed the stairs and got into bed, but long after Amy was snoring, Minerva lay awake, cheek pressed against the pillow and heart beating erratically. She was behaving ridiculously, she knew it, and yet- every time she thought of Tom's smooth, handsome face and thick, dark hair, and the way he smiled, and how he made even the most difficult problems sound easy, her heart skipped a beat.


End file.
